


Marry Me

by linasane



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Blind Castiel, Fluff, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Seriously Cheesy Fluff, Tattoo Artist Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-15
Updated: 2015-04-15
Packaged: 2018-03-23 04:08:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3753916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/linasane/pseuds/linasane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inspired by <a href="http://amoreprofoundbondmakesmefree.tumblr.com/post/76940990534/i-just-want-blind-cas-and-tattoo-artist-dean#notes">this</a> post I wrote on Tumblr ages ago about Blind!Cas and Tattoo Artist!Dean.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Meet Me

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I have no experience with blindness or anyone blind, and did very minimal research for this fic. I apologize if anything is horribly incorrect. If any of this is outright offensive (and I really hope none of it is), PLEASE let me know, and I will try to fix it as best I can.

They’d met when Cas had walked into the shop on accident.

Dean had looked up from the finishing touches he was putting on his last client of the day to find a man he’d never seen before standing in the doorway.  He was immediately intrigued.  In a small town like this, it wasn’t common for him to see many newcomers coming into the shop unless they’d booked in ahead of time.  It didn’t hurt that the guy was hot.  He had on pair of tight black jeans that clung to muscular thighs and a dark blue button up with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows, revealing unmarked skin – definitely not Dean’s usual clientele.  What caught Dean’s attention even more was the fact that he had on a pair of aviators, despite the fact that it had been dark outside for over an hour.

“Can I help you, man?” Dean called out as he turned back to his work.

The other man didn’t respond, and when he looked up a minute later, Dean saw that his head was tilted, brow furrowed. He stood there, seemingly just listening to the sounds of the shop around him, for a moment before his shoulders slumped, and he heaved a sigh.

“I’m guessing this isn’t a bakery,” the guy finally said, in a deep voice that was so not what Dean was expecting.

“Uhh, nope,” he said, focus back on the skin and ink in front of him. “Tattoo shop.”

He was about to open his mouth again to give the guy a hard time about the glaringly obvious signs advertising tattoos and piercings he had to have passed on his way in, but luckily he looked back up long enough to register the long white cane in the other man’s hand and saved himself from having to put his foot in his mouth.

“Where were you aiming for?” he asked instead.

“Just Desserts Bakery,” came that gravelly voice. “I was told it was the third shop from the end of this street.”

“Oh yeah, you’re looking for West 5th…this is East.  It’s a pretty common mistake around here.”

When he got nothing but silence from the front of the shop, he continued, “Look, uh, I’m almost done here.  I can show you where it is if you don’t mind waiting a little bit.”

He heard a sigh of relief before the other man spoke, “That would be appreciated, thank you.”

“No problem, man.  There’s a sofa over to your left if you’d like to sit or something.  Just watch out for the jewelry case in front of you, okay?”

With that, Dean started in on his final bit of work for the night.

* * *

Half an hour later, his last customer had left with an awesome new piece, and Dean had just finished up cleaning for the night.  He walked out from the back to find the stranger sitting stiffly on one of the shop’s black leather couches.

“Hey,” he said, causing the other man to jump just slightly. “You ready to go?”

The other man nodded, getting to his feet as he spoke, “Thank you for doing this.  Usually I can find my way around just fine, but I only arrived here a few days ago.  I’m not exactly familiar with this place just yet.”

Dean shrugged before realizing the other man couldn’t see it.  “Don’t worry about it,” he said. “It’s always nice to meet someone new around here, anyways.  I’m Dean, by the way.  Dean Winchester.”

“Castiel Novak,” the other man said, holding out a hand in Dean’s general direction.

Dean reached out to shake it and was surprised when, instead of dropping his hand, the other man stepped closer and took a hold of his arm.

He must have felt Dean tense up a bit, as he quickly explained, “It’s easier for me to follow you this way.  If you don’t mind, that is.”

Dean definitely did not mind.  Not when long graceful fingers were wrapped around his arm, and the other man had moved close enough that Dean could tell his smelled faintly like cinnamon.  He didn’t say any of this though, instead telling Castiel, “Nah, you’re fine.  But I do need both arms to lock up first.”

Castiel chuckled.  “Of course,” he said, letting his hand slip from Dean’s arm. “Is this your shop, then?”

“Yep,” Dean said, switching off the lights and computer system. “Opened this place with my friend Benny a few years back, but I ended up buying him out when he moved back to Louisiana with his wife a couple months ago.”

He continued to explain as he led Castiel out the door, locked everything up, and headed for Just Desserts.

* * *

Over the three blocks between Brothers in Arms Tattoo & Piercing and Just Desserts Bakery, Dean learned that Castiel worked as a writer-slash-food-blogger, and that he had decided to take a break from the city (“Too many things - and people - to run into,” he had joked) to visit his brother.  In turn, Dean explained how he’d lived in Lawrence his entire life and knew the city like the back of his hand.

He was just offering to show Castiel around as they came to a stop in front of the bakery.

“I’d like that,” Castiel told him, smirking just slightly.  "Although, I was also hoping I could take you out for dinner sometime?“

Dean couldn’t help but smile at the other man’s boldness.  In the short time they’d been talking, he had already learned that, though he was blind, Castiel was far from shy or helpless.

“I’d like that, Cas,” he said, the nickname rolling easily off his tongue.

Castiel mirrored his grin, giving Dean’s arm a gentle squeeze before finally letting go.  The two of them talked for a few more minutes before they said their goodbyes and Cas ducked into the bakery.

Dean headed back towards his shop and his car with a smile on his face, a new number in his phone, and the promise of a date the next night.


	2. Date Me

Dean had never had any experience with a blind person before, and therefore had no idea what to expect from Cas.  Despite their easy conversation and time spent together the previous night, Dean found himself getting increasingly nervous in the hours leading up to their actual date.

In his last hour at the shop, he had reorganized the front jewelry case five times, unable to sit still while he waited for one of his artists, Linda Tran, to finish up on her last client of the night.  He had also spent fifteen minutes fixing his hair in the bathroom mirror and debating switching out some of his jewelry before he realized that, oh right, his date couldn’t see it anyways.  Which, of course, had him freaking out even more about the fact that he had no experience whatsoever with anyone blind.

By the time Linda was ushering her client out of the door, Dean had nearly driven himself insane.  Thankfully he had gotten most of his closing work done while she was working, so there wasn’t too much else to do.  He hurried to finish up while she closed up her station.

Apparently, he was hurrying a little too much.

“What’s going on with you, Dean?” Linda asked, simultaneously pulling him out of his own head and scaring the shit out of him.  “You got a hot date or something?” she teased.

Dean managed to hide most of his reaction, but Linda, mother of a teenager that she was, still noticed.

“Ah, I see,” she said. “Who with?”

“Just this guy,” Dean muttered, sorting through one of the cabinets so he didn’t have to look her in the eye.  She may be five feet tall, but Linda Tran was  _scary_  when she wanted to be.  Hell, he’d seen her get guys bigger than him out of the shop single-handedly (and he didn’t think he’d ever not get a kick out of the fact that all she’d had to do every time was roll up the sleeves of her ever-present button-up to reveal heavily tattooed arms and  _stare_ ).

Luckily, she seemed to decide it wasn’t worth it to delve into her boss’s personal life at the moment. “Well,” she suggested instead of pressing for more, “let’s get this done, so you can go meet this ‘just a guy.’”

Dean shot her a grateful smile at that, blushing furiously when she winked at him knowingly.

* * *

Dean managed to make it to the restaurant right on time and found Cas standing outside the door.

“Hey,” he said, hesitantly laying a hand on the other man’s shoulder.  “Looks like you’re finding your way around town better already.”

Castiel smiled, turning toward his voice.  “Hello, Dean. I have to admit that I cheated a little bit,” he said, smiling sheepishly.  He leaned in to whisper conspiratorially, “I had my brother drop me off.”

Dean laughed.  “Well I’ll definitely have to get to showing you around town then,” he offered, only to be cut off by the sound of his stomach growling, _loudly_.

“Perhaps we should start with dinner then,” Castiel chuckled.  There was no hesitation in the way he found Dean’s hand on his shoulder and used it as a guide to loop his arm through the other man’s.  “Shall we?”

“Uh, yeah,” Dean stammered, still embarrassed and now flustered by the ease with which Cas had commandeered his arm, “let’s go.”

* * *

Dean was still feeling a bit awkward when they sat down at their table, unsure of what to say.  He was surprised when Cas seemed to sense this, head cocked to the side and sightless eyes seeming to pierce through Dean even from behind the dark lenses of his aviators.

“Are you alright, Dean?”

“I’m good,” Dean assured him, and then, words spilling out before he could stop them, “just nervous, I guess.”

The corners of Castiel’s mouth turned up a little at that.  “First date jitters?” he joked.  “You wouldn’t be the only one, I assure you.”

“Yeah, that,” Dean said, unable to help smiling back.  It was nice to know that, unflappable as Castiel seemed, Dean wasn’t alone in his anxiety.  Still, he couldn’t help but admit that that wasn’t the whole truth.  “But also, honestly?  I’ve never really been around anyone blind before, and I’m not entirely sure what to do with that.”

Cas’s small smile disappeared at his words, and Dean was quick to correct himself.

“Shit, sorry, that did not come out right,” he clarified.  “It’s not like a-a negative or anything.  I’m just worried that I’m gonna offend you or do something wrong…which I probably already did.  Fuck.” He dropped his head into his hands on the table with an audible thunk, glad that the other man couldn’t see the blush he was sure covered his cheeks.

He felt something nudge his hand and looked up to find Cas reaching across the table, a soft look on his face.

“You worry too much,” Cas teased.  “I can assure you that if you had done anything to offend me, you would have heard about it by now.  I mean, do I seem like someone that wouldn’t speak up to you?”

“Yeah, no,” Dean admitted, unable to help letting out a small huff of laughter.  He had realized within the first half-hour of meeting Castiel that the other man wasn’t one to hold anything back.

Cas nodded his head once, satisfied with Dean’s answer.  “And if you have any questions, you  _can_  ask me.  I’d much rather that than you just sending out anxious vibes from across the table,” he joked, breaking the tension that had fallen over the table.

“I am not sending out anxious vibes,” Dean protested weakly.

“Oh yes you are,” Cas answered with a smirk.  “I don’t have to be able to see to know that you’re probably blushing over there. Hmmm…nervous sweating too.”

“Oh, fuck off,” Dean told him.

“I’m right though, aren’t I?”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re right,” Dean admitted.  “And now I’m going to bury my head in this menu and pretend this never happened.”

“Would you mind reading me what’s on it while you’re in there?” Castiel asked.  “I mean, not offering to help the blind man first, how  _rude_.”

Dean looked up over the menu to find the other man sticking out his tongue in his general direction and knew, not ten minutes into their first date, that he was in way over his head.

* * *

As the night went on, the two men eased into a level of comfort that Dean had never experienced on a first date (or any date, really).  True to his word, Cas was quick to speak up if he needed anything, and that alone worked wonders in alleviating Dean’s anxiety.

There was one awkward moment though.  Halfway through their meal, Dean couldn’t help but laugh at a man that walked through the door.  Castiel, naturally, asked him what was funny.

Dean, of course, had the oh-so-smooth response of: “Nothing, man.  Just…you should  _see_  the guy who just walked in the door.”  And that was it for not putting his foot in his mouth.

Stunned into silence by his own words, Dean could only wait for Castiel’s response.  Of course, the other man surprised him when he simply asked, “Why?  What’s he look like?”

“Hmm?” it took a second for Dean to put his thoughts back together.  “Oh, I mean it’s not what he looks like, it’s that he’s basically a fucking walking highlighter, dude.  I’m talking bright yellow shirt, fuckin’  _green_  pants, and pink shoes.  Wait, does describing colors even help you?”  Dean couldn’t help asking the question, and he only hoped it wasn’t somehow hurtful.

Luckily Cas just smiled. “They do, Dean, thank you,” he answered. “And that is a rather jarring mental picture.”

Realizing that Cas had meant it when he said to ask questions, Dean blurted out the next one that popped into his head.  “So, does that mean you haven’t always been, uh, blind?”

The other man nodded. “Yes, I was…fortunate enough to grow up seeing.  I didn’t start losing my vision until my early twenties,” he explained.

“Shit,” Dean couldn’t help his reaction, “how’d that happen?”

“Well, I won’t bore you will all the medical jargon.  Suffice it to say that I suffered from a degenerative disorder.  Luckily for me, my doctor noticed it early enough that I had fair warning.”

“Still, man,” Dean said, “that’s a hell of a lot to deal with so young.”

Castiel shrugged.  “I guess so, but it worked out fairly well for me, timing wise.  I had just turned twenty-one and felt a need to explore anything and everything, so I left school and went on a road trip to all of the places I had ever wanted to see. Once my vision started to really decline, I came back and transferred into a school for the blind.  They taught me how to adapt, and I managed to finish up my degree by the time I was twenty-four.”  He said it matter of fact, as if anyone would have done the same in that situation, but Dean couldn’t help but be amazed.

“Dude,” he said, “that’s fucking incredible, you know that?  I mean, I couldn’t even make it through school, but you made it through on top of all that.  Just… _damn_ , Cas.”

It’ was Cas’s turn to blush now.  “Thank you, Dean,” he murmured, quickly switching focus from himself.  “So, no college for you then?”

Dean hesitated for a moment. He never really liked to go into detail about his past, especially his academic short-comings, but, in light of Castiel’s honestly, he found himself opening up to the other man.

“Nah,” he explained. “I didn’t even finish high school, actually.  I, uh, dropped out at seventeen and got my GED.  Not the ideal situation, obviously, but…I did what I had to.”

“What do you mean?”

Dean ran a hand down his face.  This was why he didn’t like going down this road of conversation.  Still, there was something between him and Cas that made him feel safe sharing with the other man.

“My dad got sick,” he explained.  “He managed fine for a while, but by the time that I was seventeen he was getting a lot worse.  He couldn’t work anymore and spent most of his time in bed, so someone had to pay the bills and take care of him and Sam.”

“Sam?” Cas asked.

“My brother,” Dean told him, looking down at the table as he went on.  “Someone had to make sure the little nerd got enough to eat.  And he ate like a horse back then, too.  Then again, it worked out for him – he’s taller than me now.”

When he looked back up, he saw that Cas had a soft smile on his face.

“You sound very fond of him,” he said.

Dean smiled back, the affection clear on his face had Castiel been able to see it.  “Yeah, well, he’s a good kid.”

“What happened to your father?”

Dean’s smile fell. “He uh,” he said. “he died almost a week after I turned eighteen.  Honestly, I think he only stuck it out that long because he knew I wouldn’t be able to stay with Sammy if I was underage, stubborn bastard.”  He let out a humorless chuckle at that.  “But, I mean, as awful as it sounds, it was a relief not to have him going through that anymore.  I like to think that he, uh…that he’s up there with my mom somewhere, happy.”

“That’s a nice thought,” Cas said gently, inching his hand across the table, palm up.  “I’m sorry that you lost them, Dean.”

Dean took the offered hand without hesitation.  “Thanks, Cas.”

They sat in silence for a minute, neither knowing what to say next.  Luckily, their server chose that moment to come up and ask if they wanted dessert.  Dean, being Dean, ordered pie, and he was about to offer to read the menu to Cas again when the other man went ahead and asked for the same thing.

“You a fan of pie, Cas?” Dean asked after the server had left.

Castiel shrugged, “Is anyone not?”

“That,” Dean said, squeezing the other man’s hand just a little bit tighter, “is the right answer.”

* * *

It was over pie that Dean found himself sharing more and more of his life story, Castiel matching every tidbit with one of his own.  All in all, it was one of the strangest and most wonderful first dates Dean had ever experienced.

It didn’t occur to him until he was lying in bed that night that Castiel had never, not once, asked him what he looked like, and wasn’t that a trip?

Dean had gotten very used to people judging him for how he looks over the years, and he’d never really let it bother him.  After all, the way he looked had garnered a lot of business for the shop whenever people had stopped him and asked about his tattoos or piercings.

Cas, though – Cas wanted to get to know Dean past all that, past all of the surface stuff.  It was something Dean had never experienced before, and he wasn’t quite sure what to do with it.

He thought that he liked it, though.  He thought that he liked it a lot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to [supernaturallynoble](http://supernaturallynoble.tumblr.com/) for suggesting badass tattoo artist Mama Tran :P.


	3. Love Me

Castiel had forgotten how much he hated big cities.  He thought Los Angeles might have been one of the worst ones he’s ever had to visit, as well. There were too many people, nothing within reasonable walking distance (and a lack of any good public transportation to make up for it), and – worst of all – Dean wasn’t with him.

In the six months that they had been together, Castiel never really considered how much time they actually spent with each other.  It wasn’t until he was trying to fall asleep in his hotel room the first night in LA that he realized he hadn’t spent a night without Dean in at least a month.

Sadly, as much as Castiel enjoyed being in Lawrence, he did have to make money somehow.  He had managed not to go far at first, finding new restaurants in surrounding areas he could get to by bus or train (or Impala, when he could convince Dean to go with him), but eventually he’d had to branch out further.  This trip was the first time he’d been out of Kansas, though, and he missed it already – one Kansan in particular.

Cas had his phone in his hand about to dial Dean’s number before it occurred to him that there was a time difference and the other man was most likely already asleep.  He was just setting the phone down on his nightstand, however, when it started to ring.  He smiled as Going to California blasted from his phone’s speakers, remembering how Dean had been entirely too proud when he had downloaded the ringtone for Castiel to use on his trip.

“Hello, Dean.”

He got no greeting in return, only a gruff complaint from the other end of the line. “Remind me why the hell you’re not here, again?”

“Because I have to be an adult and go to work sometimes,” Castiel reminded him.  “It’s unfortunate, I know.”

There was a sleepy mumble from Dean that sounded like, “Fuck being an adult,” and Cas couldn’t help but laugh.

“Why are you awake, Dean? It has to be past two in the morning there.”

“Two twenty-five,” the other man declared.  “And I’m awake because my asshole boyfriend had to go to work, and I apparently can’t sleep without him.”  The words were rough, but Dean’s tone was fond.

“I seem to be having the same problem,” Castiel sighed, stretching an arm out onto the empty side of his own bed.

Dean hummed in response before letting out a soft chuckle.  “God, we’re pathetically sappy, aren’t we?”

“I prefer cheesily romantic,” Cas teased, smiling into his phone.

Dean snorted. “Whatever you say, babe.”

They stayed on the line in silence for a few moments, both lying in their own beds and listening to each other breathe.

“You really should, sleep, Dean,” Cas said finally, breaking their silence.

“Yeah, okay,” Dean answered glumly, and Cas almost laughed out loud at the way he could hear his boyfriend’s pout through the phone.

“I’ll be ho—back in a week,” Castiel reminded him.

“Too long,” Dean complained.

“I know.  But I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?”

“Alright,” Dean yawned. “G’night, Cas.”

“Goodnight, Dean.”

Cas smiled as he ended the call and set his phone down on the nightstand, rolling over and attempting to get some sleep.

* * *

Six days later, Castiel was on a plane back to Kansas and couldn’t be happier to be leaving LA.

He and Dean had talked to each other as much as possible while he had been away, but they both still had to work and the time difference had made calling each other at night difficult. Cas couldn’t wait to get back.

The plane touched down in Kansas City, and Cas had his phone out and dialing as soon as the flight attendants would allow.

“I’m here,” he said without preamble when Dean picked up.

Dean chuckled at the urgency in his voice.  “Alright, babe.  I’m at baggage claim already, so I’ll find you when you get here, yeah?”

“Okay.”  Cas could hear the other passengers around him start to shuffle around as the pilot announce that the doors would be opening. “I’ll see you soon, Dean.”

“See ya in a few, Cas.”

* * *

Castiel finally made it to baggage claim after what seemed like an eternity of navigating his way through the airport.  He could feel the sea of people around him as they all hurried to the carousel to wait for their luggage and decided it would be best to wait away from the crowd to make it easier for Dean to find him.

Sure enough, a firm hand landed on his shoulder not five minutes later.

“Hey, Cas,” came a familiar voice.

There was a swell of affection and joy in Castiel’s chest.  “Dean,” he breathed, reaching up to find the other man’s face, tracing familiar features he’d missed entirely too much the previous week.  He could feel Dean’s grin as he leaned in for a kiss.

Cas smiled as soft lips touched his own, only to freeze at the unfamiliar press of something hard. He pulled back quickly, confused.

“Dean?” he asked, tracing this other man’s face once again.  He knew it was him, and he could feel the other man’s brow crinkle in confusion as well.  He brought a hand down to Dean’s lips, once again finding something hard and unfamiliar. “What…?”

“Oh, shit,” Dean said, realization kicking in. “Did I not tell you about…?  Crap, I totally forgot.  I let one the new piercer practice on me the other day,” he explained.

“You pierced your lip?” Cas asked, still tracing his boyfriend’s mouth with a finger.

“Yeah,” Dean admitted sheepishly. “I didn’t even think about it.  Shit.  I can take it out if you hate it.”

Castiel hummed as he considered this, pulling Dean in for another kiss.  The metal was once again an unfamiliar sensation, though not necessarily a bad one.

“No,” Castiel decided, kissing Dean again and murmuring against his mouth.  “I kind of like it.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

He could feel Dean’s smile before the other man pulled back gently.

“Sorry,” Dean apologized, “it’s, uh, still kind of sore, actually.”

Castiel was about to suggest that he could put his mouth to use elsewhere when he realized that, right, they were still in public.

“Help me find my bag?” he asked instead.

“Sure thing, babe,” Dean said, taking his hand and leading the way.

* * *

They were in the Impala on the way to Lawrence when something occurred to Castiel.

“Dean?”

“Yeah?”

“Have you gotten any other additions since we’ve been together?” he asked, clarifying a second later. “Piercings and tattoos, I mean.”

There was silence from the driver’s side of the car as Dean thought about it.  “Since we’ve been together?” he finally asked, and Cas nodded. “Nope.”

Castiel could here that there was something Dean was leaving out, so he held back a reply and waited for the other man to continue.

“I’ve got one planned for next week, though.”

“You do?  What is it?”

There was another beat of silence before Dean answered. “You know…I think I’ll let it be a surprise.”

“Dean,” Cas said drily, “do I need to remind you that I can’t  _see_?”

His boyfriend just chuckled, sliding his hand into Cas’s where it rested on his seat.  “That doesn’t mean it can’t be a surprise, babe,” he said.  “We can at least have some fun with it.  Tell you what: if you can guess where I get it, then I’ll tell you all about it. How’s that sound?”

Castiel considered it for a moment before deciding.  “It sounds like a deal.”

* * *

Castiel was sitting on Dean’s couch working on a post a week later when he heard the front door open.

“Cas?” Dean called from the entryway.

Cas set down his laptop and the headset he used when he was working, and turning in the general direction of the living room door.  “In here,” he answered.

He heard the sound of socked feet as Dean walked into the room, and then the couch cushions next to him sunk down as a warm arm wrapped itself around his shoulders.

“Hey, babe,” Dean said, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“Hello, Dean.” Cas said, reaching up to turn his boyfriend’s face and give him a proper kiss on the mouth. He had barely pulled back from it when he blurted out, “So can I guess now?”

Dean chuckled at his enthusiasm.  “Alright. Go ahead,” he answered, smirk apparent in his voice.

“Is it on your right arm,” Castiel guessed, “above your elbow?”

There was a beat of silence and Castiel knew he was right.

“How the hell’d you know that?” Dean asked.

Cas just smiled. “Well, I know that this arm,” he said, gently grabbing Dean’s right wrist, “is Heaven.”  “And this one,” he continued, dropping Dean’s right wrist to pick up the left, “is Hell.”

He recalled Dean telling him about his tattoos on the first night they had spent together.  Cas had been curious about the skin under his hands, and had finally asked if Dean had any tattoos himself.  Dean had spent half the night telling him about them.

His left arm was Hell – all of the bad experiences of his life.  He’d explained to Cas that it was a half sleeve of heavy black and grey ink depicting graveyards, chains, fire, and a bottle of booze – all connected by a dark, seemingly endless road.  Getting to where he was had been a fight, Dean had told him, and the tattoo served to remind him of that.

The tattoos on Dean’s left arm were Heaven – all of the great aspects of his life that Dean had finally come to accept he deserved.  This one wasn’t quite a half sleeve yet (“Still a work in progress,” Dean had explained), but it was a brightly colored amalgam of the Brother’s in Arms logo, an guardian angel that resembled Dean’s mother, and his beloved ’67 Impala.

Finished describing the tattoos on his arms, Cas moved his hand to Dean’s chest, letting it come to a halt right over his heart.

“I know that you only have one here, and it matches Sam’s,” he said, chuckling, “but you said it hurt like a bitch and you’d never get a tattoo on your chest again.”  He slid his hands from Dean’s chest up over his shoulders his down his back, moving close enough to the other man that he can feel his breath on his face.  “And I know that you’ve got a big one back here,” he explained, moving his hands in gentle circles as he spoke

The story of the tattoo on Dean’s back was Castiel’s favorite.  It was a tree, huge, black, and gnarled, branches ominous and bare. When Dean had first gotten it, he’d had the artist ink two leaves falling from the branches, one for his mom and one for his Dad.  There had also been a single, brightly colored flower on one of the branches, for Sam. As Dean had gained people in his life, he had added them to the branches.  Benny, his business partner and best friend, had been the first to ink his own, and after that it had become a tradition at the shop.  For Castiel, the open affection and pride in Dean’s voice as he explained this was the most memorable part of the story.

Castiel said as much to Dean as he recounted that night.  Only to be met with the other man’s stunned silence.

Then, “You remember all that, Cas?” Dean asked, clearly shocked.

“Of course, Dean,” Cas told him, moving back a bit to cup his boyfriend’s cheek in his hand, “I love you.”

It was the first time either of them had said it, and Castiel could actually  _feel_ Dean freeze up before his face broke out into a grin, and he seemed to regain the ability to speak.

“Yeah, Cas,” he stammered, “uh, me too.  I mean, I love you too.”

Castiel smiled so wide in return that his cheeks hurt, quickly pulling Dean in for a heated kiss.

* * *

The next morning, Cas came up behind Dean where he stood at the kitchen counter, fighting with the coffeemaker.  He wrapped his hands around the other man’s wrists and pulled them back from the machine before running his hands up and down his arms.  His right hand met a raised bit of slightly heated skin, reminding him of their guessing game the previous night.  He continued to trace the edges of the swollen tattoo as he spoke.

“You never told me what it was,” he murmured into Dean’s ear.

“Yeah well,” Dean huffed, turning around in Cas’s arms, “I got a little bit…distracted.”  He leaned down to place a sound kiss on his boyfriend’s lips before he continued.  “Do you want me to tell you, or do you think you can guess?”

Castiel took the challenge, gently tracing the raised flesh on Dean’s arm once again, but he eventually had to admit defeat, the outline not detailed enough for him to guess what it was.

“It’s, uh, a pair of aviators,” Dean admitted, nerves just barely creeping into his tone. “Your aviators.”

Castiel smiled up at his boyfriend, stunned and overjoyed.

“I’m one of the happy things?” he asked.

“Of course, Cas,” Dean answered, pulling him in for another kiss.  “I meant it when I said I love you too, you know?”

Cas didn’t know what to say to that, heart overflowing with emotion as it was, so he just pulled Dean into a tight hug, fingers still tracing over the fresh tattoo.

They stood there for a minute, just enjoying the closeness and the silence of the morning, until Dean spoke again.

“Uh, Cas?”

“Yes, Dean?”

“I’m glad that we’re having a moment and all, but that tattoo is pretty fresh, and it’s not gonna be all that comfortable – or sanitary, for that matter – if you keep on touching it like that.”

Cas yanked his hand back, apologizing profusely, but Dean just chuckled and shut him up with a final kiss.

“It’s okay, babe. I’ll keep you around anyways,” he teased.  “Gotta have someone to work the damn coffee maker.”

Castiel laughed and rolled his eyes as the two of them got back to making breakfast, a comfortable silence falling upon the kitchen.

He got the coffee maker started and leaned against the counter to wait for it to brew.  As he waited, he zoned out a bit, enough so that he didn’t notice Dean approaching until he was right next to him.

“Hey, uh, speaking of keeping you…” Dean said, “Would you, uh, maybe…wanttomoveinwithme?”

Cas couldn’t help but gape at the sudden question, shocked but elated.

When he didn’t get an answer right away, Dean continued in a rush, “I mean, you spend most of your time here anyways, and it kind of sucks when you’re gone, and—”

Castiel reached for Dean’s face and, when the other man moved in to his hold out of habit, kissed him to shut him up.

When he pulled back a while later, he knew he was smiling wide and bright, happy to finally call this place home.

“I’d love to move in with you, Dean.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I realize that touching new tattoos is super unsanitary, but we're talking about Dean Winchester here, who canonically uses dental floss and whiskey to sew up open wounds, okay? But yeah definitely don't touch anyone's brand new tattoo without asking...that shit hurts (also don't make out with a new lip ring...that's bad too :P)!


	4. Join Me

A few days after their one year anniversary, Dean came home with his skin stinging under the plastic wrap covering a new tattoo on his arm.  It wasn’t the first he’d gotten since the aviators – that honor went to a plated piece of pie he had inked just below the Brothers in Arms logo – but it was the most significant.

“Hey, babe,” he called, walking into the living room to find Castiel on the couch with a book in his hands. The other man’s brow was furrowed and the corners of his mouth turned down in a way that Dean guessed meant he’d had a hard day of work – reading was Cas’s favorite escape when he was upset or stressed.  Luckily, Dean figured he had the perfect way to cheer his boyfriend up.

“Guess what?” he said, moving towards the couch to run a hand through Castiel’s hair.

“What, Dean?” Castiel asked, voice flat – his day at work must have been worse than Dean originally thought.

“I got a new tattoo today,” he announced, mentally fist-pumping when the corners of Cas’s mouth turned up slightly.

Cas reached up for Dean’s hands.  “Where is it?” he asked.

Dean allowed his boyfriend to pull him down onto the couch, reaching up to peel the tape and plastic wrap from his right arm.  “I’m not just gonna  _tell_ you,” he joked, “you have to guess, babe.”

It wasn’t too hard for Castiel to figure it out.  Since he had known Dean, all new additions had been on his right upper arm, so he knew that was a safe bet.

Dean smiled at his answer. “Got it in one,” he said, grabbing Cas’s hand and guiding it to the tender patch of skin.  “Now, what do you think it is?”

Cas traced the outline of the tattoo before gently moving his fingers over the middle of it.  He could make out distinct lines in the center, but the shapes on the edges were too swollen for him to get any good idea of what they were.

“Is it…text?” he finally ventured.  “With some sort of border around it?”

Dean smiled.  “Close.” he said.  “It’s not a border so much as it’s, uh, wings.  And there is text, but it’s not in English.”  He reached up to rub the back of his neck before taking Castiel’s hand.  “It’s Enochian, actually – the language of the angels – and, um, it’s your name,” he explained hesitantly, well aware of the implications of the tattoo.  It was permanent, just as he hoped he and Cas would be.

Dean watched carefully for his boyfriend’s reaction, appalled when sorrow, not joy, spread across the other man’s face.

“Cas?” he asked, scooting closer to cup his face in his hand.  “Shit.  Do you hate it?”

“No,” Castiel shook his head sadly, reaching up to lay his hand over Dean’s, “of course not.  I love it Dean.  Very much.”

“Then what’s wrong?”

Dean’s worry ratcheted up a notch when a tear slipped down Castiel’s cheek.  The other man wiped it away with his free hand before he spoke.

“I was offered a job today,” he explained.  “It’s at a magazine, and it’s a huge opportunity for me.”

“Cas,” Dean said, defaulting to humor, “I hate to inform you, but that’s a _good_  th–.”

“It’s in San Francisco.”

“Oh.” Dean’s face fell to match Castiel’s as he processed this information.  He’d gotten so used to Cas living here in Lawrence, with him, that he’d never once considered the other man might have to leave.  Sure, he still went on the occasional business trip (and the two of them barely survived  _those_  – how the hell would a long distance relationship work?), but for all intents and purposes, Cas had lived in Lawrence for almost a year now.  And as much as Dean wanted his boyfriend to succeed, he also wanted Cas to stay with him.  “Fuck.”

Castiel let out a bitter chuckle.  “My thoughts exactly,” he said.  The look on his face was so distraught that Dean didn’t know what to do other than pull him into a tight hug, mind still reeling from this new information.  His brain instantly jumped to possible solutions – flying to see each other every so often, or Skyping (which wouldn’t even benefit Cas more than the damn phone), or-or there had to be  _something_.

Cas wrapped his arms around Dean just as tight in return.  His thoughts, too, were racing.  He thought about this man who he loved so much, who was literally wearing his own love on his sleeve.  Suddenly, the answer was clear to Castiel.

He pulled back suddenly, words urgent. “Come with me.”

Cas could feel Dean’s jaw working as he tried to form words, eventually coming up with “What?”

“I mean it, Dean,” Cas said, hope blooming in his chest. “You’ve said yourself that Linda’s probably capable of running the place by now, and you’d still be able to stop by every once in a while to look over things.  Plus, you surely have enough clientele to open up another shop somewhere. I’m sure you could do that in San Francisco.”

Dean tries to wrap his mind around all this, but the only thing he can focus on is the prospect of leaving Lawrence, leaving  _home_. He can feel a freak out coming on and knows he needs to get some air away from Cas before he says something he might regret.

So, instead of giving his boyfriend an answer one way or another, Dean unwound himself from the other man’s arms and stood up from the couch.  “I need to go shower,” he said.  “Got to, uh, wash off the new tattoo and all.”  He quickly strode out of the room, leaving Castiel still sitting, stunned and alone, on the couch.

* * *

Dean emerged from the bathroom a half an hour later to find Cas exactly where he had left him.  He’d picked up his book again, but he wasn’t reading, hand sitting limply on the page instead.  He ignored Dean, even though the other man knew he could hear him walk into the room.

Finally, Dean sighed and walked over to sit on the couch again, plucking the book from Castiel’s hands.

“I’m sorry I left,” he said. “I just…I needed some time to think.”

The words were true; Dean had spent the entirety of his time in the bathroom deep in thought.  He had thought about Cas and how important he truly was in his life, how desperately he didn’t want to be without him.  His first instinct was to resist change, but, to be honest, it was probably time he moved onto something new.  Hell, Benny had done it years ago.  Plus if he lived in San Francisco, he’d actually be able to see Sammy on a more regular basis.  The more Dean had thought about it, and the more he had thought about what his life would be like here without Castiel in it, the more everything seemed to fall into place.  So he’d made his decision.

“Okay,” he said, delighting in the way Cas’s eyebrows shot up and his jaw dropped.  That was the reaction he’d been looking for earlier.

“Okay?” Cas asked hesitantly, not wanting to get his hopes up in case he misunderstood.  “As in okay you’ll come with me?”

“Yeah, Cas,” Dean told him, “let’s do it.”

The smile that broke out across Castiel’s face at that?  Well worth it.


	5. Keep Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, guys, prepare for horribly, tooth-rotting fluff because I cannot resist cheesy marriage proposals. Also, I cannot tell you just how happy I was to be able to write this chapter in the present tense :P.

Life in San Francisco was a pretty huge adjustment, but things are finally starting to calm down.  It’s been a whirlwind six months for Dean.  With Sam’s help, he’d managed to find an available work space fairly easily (the moose had been so excited about the move that he’d thrown himself fully into shop-hunting), but getting the whole place set up had been a whole other story.  There had been tattoo machines and equipment to buy, walls to paint and decorate, a shop front to arrange, and new staff to hire.  He didn’t remember it being so hard before; then again, he’d had Benny with him the first time around, and, for all his laid back nature, the other man knew how to get shit _done_.

He’d actually still been a huge help with the new shop.  Having traveled around quite a bit after leaving Lawrence, Benny had met a number of artists around the States.  Thanks to his recommendations and connections, staffing the new shop hadn’t been quite the ordeal Dean had expected.  And the new additions didn’t let him down.  Thanks to Jo Harvelle, a former traveling artist who had brought a lot of her clientele into the shop, and Charlie Bradbury, who doubled as the shop’s piercer and website manager, in particular, business had been freaking booming from the start.

Of course, a busy shop meant less time at home, and since Cas’s new position had him working from the magazine’s headquarters instead of their living room, the couple had barely seen each other for the first few months.  Dean would be lying if he said it hadn’t been stressful.  They’d had their fair share of fights and nights spent on the couch but managed to work it out over time.  Now, Dean makes sure to take days off from the shop every week, and Castiel does his best to not bring his work home with him.  They’ve even managed to have dinner with Sam and Jess twice a month, and it scares the Winchester brothers a bit to see just how well their significant others get along.  It’s been an adjustment, but Dean and Castiel are still going strong.  There’s something about seeing his and Cas’s relationship endure even the stress of moving halfway across the country that comforts Dean.  He knows they’re going to last now – and he thinks it’s about time he did something about it.

That’s how Dean ends up in Jo’s chair one Thursday afternoon as she stencils and re-stencils a new design on his arm.  Charlie abandoned her newest project on the website fifteen minutes ago to look on excitedly over Dean’s shoulder and help nitpick about placement.  This tattoo has to be spaced perfectly, or else it’s not going to have the effect Dean’s going for.

Once it’s in the right place, it doesn’t take long for Jo to complete the actual tattooing.  She sits back and grins up at him when it’s done.

“What do you think?” she asks.

Dean smiles back, speaking over Charlie’s excited squeals from behind him.  “It’s perfect.”

* * *

Castiel’s dozing on the couch when the sound of the front door jolts him out of his nap.  His new job is wonderful, but navigating the city’s public transportation to and from the office will never not be exhausting.  And yet, the fact that he has his dream job and still gets to curl up in Dean’s arms every night makes everything well worth it.

Castiel can hear the man in question toeing off his shoes at the door before footsteps pad into the room.  He can’t help but smile in their direction.  “Hello, Dean.”

“Hey, Cas,” Dean says, an unfamiliar tightness in his voice.  This, combined with the way Dean sinks on to the couch slowly instead of flopping down like he normally does, has Cas a little concerned.

“Are you alright?” he asks.

He can still hear the tension as Dean explains, “Yeah, uh, just a long day at work is all.”

As concerned as Cas is, he gets distracted when he hears the rustle of plastic wrap and notices that the smell of Vaseline and ink that normally clings to Dean is stronger than usual.

“You got a new tattoo, didn’t you?” he asks excitedly.

“Uh-huh.”

“Where is it?” Cas asks, knowing full well that Dean’s not going to tell him, but loving this tradition they’ve established over their time together.

Dean, apparently, has other plans.  Instead of prompting Castiel to guess like he usually does, he wraps a shaking hand around the back of his neck and pulls him in for a deep kiss.  Cas moves one of his own hands to cup his boyfriend’s face as they kiss, slowly sliding it down to rest where his shoulder meets his neck.  He can feel Dean’s pulse racing under his palm, and he’s back to being concerned once again.

He pulls back just enough that their foreheads are resting together.  “Are you sure you’re okay?”

He can hear Dean’s smile in his next words, even though that strange tightness is still there in his tone.  “Yeah, babe,” he assures Cas, “I’m great.”  Dean sits upright then, taking hold of the hand Castiel still has resting on his neck.  Slowly, he guides it down to his own right wrist, laying it gently on the telltale overheated skin of sa fresh tattoo.

Castiel raises his eyebrows in surprise, wondering why there’s been a sudden deviation from their usual routine.  Something about the tension he can feel rolling off Dean that stops him from actually asking, though.

Instead, he trails his hand lightly over the new tattoo, trying to discern its design.  He’s confused at first – it seems to be a random pattern of polka dots – but then he gets to the top and suddenly recognizes the tattoo for what it is: Braille.  Breath caught in his throat, Cas glides his fingertips down over Dean’s wrist, reading the new words he has inked there.

_Will_

_you_

_marry_

_me?_

Castiel sucks in a sharp breath of air as he reads the words.  Before he can say anything, Dean’s speaking.  The tension is gone from his voice, but Cas can feel the pulse in his wrist racing under his fingers.  It seems to match the way Castiel’s own heart is pounding away in his chest.

“Cas,” Dean says, “I know these last few months have been, well, freakin’ insane.  But we’re still here, and we’re still together, and, honestly, I’m happier here, with you, than I ever have been anywhere else in my whole life.  And I can’t imagine ever letting that go.”

He cuts off when Cas fails to hold back a sniffle, one traitorous happy tear rolling down his face.  Cas quickly wipes it away and waves his free hand at the other man.  “I’m good, I’m good, keep going.”

Dean chuckles at that, but continues. “Castiel Novak,” he says, exhaling a shaking breath and moving Cas’s hand to retrace the words on his arm, “will you marry me?”

Castiel would be embarrassed at the strange happy noise that escapes from his mouth at that point, but he’s too busy flinging his arms around his boyfriend (fiancé?) and pulling him into a tight embrace.  He turns his head to kiss every part of Dean’s neck and jaw he can reach before moving his lips to the other man’s ear and whispering a enthusiastic “ _Yes_.”

* * *

Never in his life did Castiel ever think he would be getting a tattoo.  He didn’t have time to consider the idea when he was younger and dedicated to his studies, and once his eyesight started declining, he didn’t see the point in paying for a piece of art he would never be able to see.

But this piece, well, this piece _Dean_ will see, and that’s what’s really important.

Jo, for all her teasing that she was going to ink a dick on his arm and he would never know, has been nothing but reassuring throughout the whole process.  She’s let Castiel know exactly what’s happening every step of the way, and it’s something he appreciates greatly.  He also appreciates that Charlie has been at his side and holding his free hand the entire time, despite his protests that it’s totally unnecessary.

“Done!” Jo declares eventually, and Castiel feels Charlie leaning in to examine her work.

“How’s it look?” he asks.

He can practically hear Jo’s smirk as she frees his other hand from Charlie’s grip and moves it gently over the new tattoo.  “How’s it _feel_?” she counters.

Castiel traces the tender flesh for a moment before a smile spreads across his face.  “It’s perfect.”

* * *

Dean comes home that night to find Cas sitting rigidly on the couch, face turned in the direction of the door and apparently deep in thought.  It’s an unusual sight (he usually comes in to find Cas asleep or with a book in his hands), and it has him instantly on edge.

“Cas?” he ventures, seeming to snap the other man out of his daze.  “What’s up, babe?”

Castiel grins up at him, and the little knot of worry that has formed in Dean’s chest instantly loosens.  “Come here, Dean,” Cas urges softly.  When he pats the couch cushion next to him, Dean wastes no time in taking a seat, leaning in to press a quick kiss to the other man’s lips as he does so.

“What’s got you so smiley?” he asks.

Cas’s smile only brightens at that.  “I have something for you.”

Before Dean can ask what it is, his fiancé is rolling up his sleeve to reveal the new ink on his wrist.

Dean gapes at the familiar arrangements of dots, fingers reaching out of their own volition to trace over the raised skin.  Dean can’t really read Braille, but he learned enough while researching his own tattoo to know that that first letter’s a Y, and that second one’s an E, and–

“ _Cas_.”

“I know I’ve already said it a thousand times,” Castiel explains, reaching a hand towards Dean’s face that he gladly leans into, “and I’ll say it a thousand more, but this just seemed…fitting.”

When Dean doesn’t say anything, Cas’s eyebrows furrow together just a touch.

“Do you like it?” he asks.

“I–I fucking love it, babe,” Dean says.

Cas’s expression softens immediately at the watery tone of his voice.  “Yeah?”

Dean can’t do anything but lean in and press a kiss to his fiancé’s lips, his own words echoing the ones inked on the other man’s wrist. “ _Yes_.”  He peppers Cas’s face with soft kisses as he tries to regain the ability to speak.  When he finally does, he wraps his arm around Cas’s waist and tucks his face into the other man’s neck.  “I love you, babe.”

Castiel holds him just as tight.  “I love you too, Dean.  So much.”

* * *

When they finally walk down the aisle as husbands a year later, Dean will smile down at the way their tattooed wrists rest against each other as they hold hands.

Though Castiel won’t be able to see the tattoos meet, he’ll know they’re there, and he’ll find himself smiling as well.

And when their grandchildren ask about their tattoos, years later, they’ll tell their story with those very same smiles on their faces.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's all, folks! This fic took me entirely too long to get to writing, but I hope you all enjoyed!! :D.


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